


The Hook-Up

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Developing Relationship, F/M, Female Friendship, First Dates, Flirting, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Thor: The Dark World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2444552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane will be smug for <i>months</i> after this, but Darcy can’t bring herself to care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hook-Up

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to tumblr user justenhunterwriter who happens to be one of the coolest dudes I know. I hope your birthday was spectacular and that you get a kick out of this little Steve/Darcy + Jane story. Thank you for your advice and for your friendship!

The blind date is Jane’s idea.

Of course it is.

After landing neatly into her own happily ever after with Thor, Jane seems on a mission to make sure that everyone around her winds up in the very same boat.

It was funny when it was other people. Watching Jane’s attempts at matching Erik up with every single woman over the age of fifty was freaking _hilarious_. Having Jane then try to hook her up with a near endless parade of eligible, nerdy bachelors from the science department?

Well that wasn’t nearly as funny.

*

"You’ll like Steve, Darcy," Jane says from her vantage point near the head of Darcy’s bed as she watches Darcy go through her closet for something to wear. The half-full glass of wine in her hand trembles enough to make Darcy worry about her defenseless blankets, but before she can open her mouth, Jane sets the glass down on top of the least messy of Darcy’s two nightstands. "Trust me. He’s a great guy."

Darcy frowns, feeling her nose wrinkle.

"That’s what you said about the last two dudes you tried to hook me up with and we all know how well _that_ turned out…” Darcy shudders at the thought and then pulls two vastly different dresses out of the closet. “Now, before you talk up a guy that I’ll probably ditch before dessert, help me out here. Should I wear the red maxi or the purple sweater dress?”

Jane squints at Darcy, face screwed up as if she’s actually imagining what Darcy’ll look like in something other than her fuzziest of fuzzy pajamas.

"The sweater dress," Jane says after a moment of thought. "The red one makes you look like you’re vacationing in Florida." They both shudder at the same time and then share matching, crooked grins from across the bedroom.

Darcy slips the sweater dress off its hanger and brushes her fingers over the soft fabric. “Any other advice before I start getting ready, oh fearless leader?”

Jane giggles.

"Wear comfortable shoes," she calls out with a grin and a wiggle of her eyebrows that leaves Darcy feeling antsy. "Steve’s _athletic_. He’ll probably want to take a walk after dinner and you can’t do that in high heels.”

"Who says I’m even going to make it through dinner?" Darcy mutters, pasting a scowl on her face that’s just for Jane even though it only causes her to giggle loudly enough that the guy that shares a wall with Darcy’s bedroom bangs on it to silence her. "Seriously, Jane. If I go there and I wind up having to climb out the bathroom window to escape, you’re paying for my dry cleaning."

"It was only the one time!"

*

Five minutes into dinner, Darcy makes a break for the bathroom.

Not to climb out of the window, no. Darcy has something else in mind and it has nothing to do with squeezing through the tiny, _dirty_ window of an Italian restaurant that’s probably as old as Thor is.

Jane picks up her cellphone after the second ring.

"Hello," she coos, sounding so pleased with herself that Darcy could just pinch her. "How’s the date going?"

Darcy bares her teeth despite Jane being too far away to see the expression on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me,” she hisses.

Jane decides to play ignorant. “Tell you what?”

"That my date was Captain- _fucking_ -America?” Darcy’s voice raises until it’s almost a shout.

Jane huffs. “I told you his name was Steve, Darcy. How many Steves do you think I know?”

"Like four billion, Jane. Geez!"

Jane cuts Darcy off without warning, interjecting right as Darcy gets ready for a good, _long_ rant. “The third time’s a charm, Darcy. Now please stop hiding in the bathroom and go socialize with Steve; he’s a really good guy.”

With that, Jane hangs up, leaving Darcy to stare at her phone and wonder if she’s suddenly stepped into some alternate universe where her boss is actually bossy for a change.

“ _Fine_ ,” Darcy mutters at the darkened screen of her phone, speaking even though there’s no one around to hear her.

*

It isn’t like going on a date with Steve is a freaking hardship.

The guy’s a freaking _treasure_. Tall, blond, and full of the funniest stories that Darcy has ever heard anyone tell about life during the Great Depression, Steve manages to charm the pants off Darcy and basically everyone in the restaurant by the time that their dessert (a dark chocolate torte for two) comes.

As the end of dessert (and their dinner) looms, their conversation takes on a slightly more personal tone.

"I wasn’t expecting this," Darcy says, gesturing between her and Steve with a fork that she’s just licked clean of chocolate sauce.

Steve’s mouth quirks with a small smile. “Lemme guess,” he says with an accent noticeable enough to be distracting, “You were expecting someone taller.”

Darcy snorts. “Tch. As if. Dude, you’re freaking _huge_.”

Of all the things that Darcy’s expecting (a dirty joke in response to Darcy’s accidental innuendo, a hasty change of subject), getting Steve to blush bright red all the way up to his hairline isn’t one of them. A blush looks weirdly adorable on him and Darcy resists the urge to preen at the feeling of pleasure that comes from having Captain America of all people blushing over _her_.

Instead of teasing like she (desperately) wants, Darcy decides to take pity on her date. Slouching down in her chair, Darcy stretches out until she can knock her ankle against Steve’s leg. She smiles when he finally manages to look at her without his blush returning in full force.

"Too much for a first date?" Darcy asks, feeling a bit of a thrill from the way that Steve can’t quite look at her without turning all red and blotchy. "Jane should’ve warned you, but I’m a bit…" She trails off then, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she tries to find a word that doesn’t tip over the border between funny and self-deprecating. "I can be a bit much," is what Darcy settles on eventually, but even that Steve doesn’t let her get away with.

Steve offers Darcy a smile of his own as he passes one huge hand over his closely cropped blond hair.

"You’re fine," Steve says, his low voice full of warmth. "And Jane had only nice things to say about you. Thor too."

Darcy grins. “And this is after I tazed him. That dude has some seriously messed up taste in friends.”

Steve’s smile widens with the sort of softness that Darcy has only seen a few times, namely that moment right after Thor blows into town and right before he makes Darcy wish that the apartment that they share had thicker walls.

"I don’t know about that," Steve says, "You seem great to me."

Darcy feels her face warm with a blush and then tries to will it away. When that doesn’t work, she settles for changing the subject.

"So," Darcy says, setting her fork down with a clatter. "I don’t think it’s fair that my friends have been telling you god knows _what_ about me and I’m still majorly in the dark.  So spill.”

When Steve smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkle up and if that isn’t the cutest thing that Darcy’s ever seen, she’ll eat her purse.

"Well," Steve drawls, a mischievous look on his face just as Darcy makes to take a sip of her wine, "On my weekends, I rescue my fair share of cats in trees. Unfortunately, I’ve had my fair share of near-maulings."  

Darcy snorts with laughter and nearly winds up spilling her wine. “Not fair,” she says when she finishes laughing. “You’re not allowed to be cute and funny.”

Steve waggles his eyebrows at her. “I do windows too.”

Before Darcy can end up covered in wine _and_ the smeared remnants of their torte, their waiter comes rushing up to them with the check. Before Steve can even flinch in the direction of his wallet, Darcy has her debit card out and tucked into the waiter’s hand.

"You can pay the next time we go out," Darcy says.

Steve blinks. “You want to go out with me again?”

He says it like he’s been on a date with someone else. Someone that _hasn’t_ been trying not to laugh themselves into an asthma attack or something equally embarrassing over his quirky sense of humor.

Darcy says the first thing that comes to mind.

"Hell yeah."


End file.
